


221Purgatory

by Eloquentish



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Femlock, POV Female Character, Spirit World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-19 03:17:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1453459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eloquentish/pseuds/Eloquentish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sheryl Holmes and Jen Watson meet for the first time... in the spirit world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	221Purgatory

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to benbemine on tumblr for beta reading my oneshot. She is a darling!

 

“Number 1892. Please come forward.” Sheryl Holmes, a tall woman with dark locks done up to the tip of her head, stood with a clipboard in hand. Her wavy fringe sat on one side of her forehead, showing off her sharp cheekbones. She donned a pencil skirt, a white dress shirt and a matching black blazer which extenuated her figure. No soul responded to her beckon. So she looked through the filled seats of the never ending hallway until her light blue eyes landed on an old man seated three chairs down. “That means you, Mr. Gump.”

The old man stood up with light wobbling knees and carefully straightened his back in the position of an experienced soldier. “Yes, ma'am!” He marched towards her and halted, saluting quickly with a shaking arm.

“Number 1892, please take this key and go through the Blue door. The one that’s _not_ Red.” Sheryl handed him a key with his number and he looked down at it for a while before receiving it in his calloused hand. “Number 1893!” She announced before he even had the chance to  walk away.

Number 1892 smiled at her but she paid it no mind as she was already focused on the next soul . He placed his key within the blue lock only to look back and see nothing but pitch black darkness. With trepidation he looked at the Blue door in front of him. When he finally opened it, he smiled as tears filled his eyes and he passed through the door into a blinding white light.

“Aye toots. Where can a guy get some beer around here?” Number 1893 was a real stinker. Typical DUI case. Sheryl looked him up and down. By the state of his breath she could tell he’d been drinking Scotch and by the dilation of his eyes and sweat on his palms, she deduced he'd added in a dash of ecstasy. Judging by the sickly yellow tint in his skin he was also terminally ill for three years. Gave up once his wife left him and took the two children - scratch that, two dogs. He never liked them anyway, always kept him up at night when he’d rather be _wanking off_. Sheryl quickly grimaced at the image of it, she’d deduced too much as usual. “What’s with the face? Am I disgusting to ya?”

“Number 1893, if you don’t take two large strides back, I’ll have to keep you waiting another thousand seats. So **do as I say**.” She was stern and authoritative in her tone. Number 1893 immediately looked around and within a short pause, did as he was told. The other souls quietly watched or pretended to look at their feet. “You get the Blue door. Here is your key.” Sheryl threw it at him and he caught it with both hands, almost missing it. “Laterz.”  

Without any back talk, number 1893 stormed off with the key shoved in his jean pocket.

“Number 1894. Please come forward.”

“Um, excuse me. I think that’s me.” A small girl with a missing arm stepped up to her. Sheryl looked at her and smiled.

“Yes, sweetie. You get the Red door. It’s right behind me, okay?” Sheryl bent forward to meet the girl at eye level.

“Can I tell you something in secret?” Number 1894 whispered. The little girl gestured for her to come closer. Sheryl hesitated and leaned in. “Don’t think I don’t know what the Red door means. Now, either you give me the key to the Blue door or I’ll rip _your_ pearly blues out of your eye sockets. Okay?”

If it’d been anybody else, the first reaction would have included shock, fear, and possibly disgust. But Sheryl Holmes was not just anybody. She looked right into those placid dark brown eyes and ruffled the little girl’s soft black hair before casually retorting in the same threatening and playful manner.

“Naughty children like you don’t get to go through the Blue door. You get the pretty Red door. And if you don’t like that then I’ll call on the Hounds. Do you prefer to be torn apart limb from limb or skinned from head to toe?”

“ _Oh my_ , miss. That sure does not sound fun to me. I guess I’ll take that key now.” Number 1894 giggled and snatched the small key out of Sheryl’s hand. She skipped off, happily going through the Red door.

Sheryl sighed but just as she was about to call the next number, her watch beeped.

“Break time. I’ll be back in an hour folks.” Sheryl announced. She saw many of them quietly protesting but break time was break time and she’d never missed those precious moments of peace and quiet. Having to deal with idiots all day always wore her out. 

“Wait!” A woman called to her from behind. Sheryl stopped, regretting it right away. Why had she stopped? “Please? I’m number 1895 and I’d really like to leave… now, if that’s okay.”

“I’m sorry but you will have-“ As Sheryl turned around, she’d not expected to see a short, blonde woman in a soldier’s uniform painted with dry blood. There was a hesitation in her steps, she didn’t move because she was scared of limping, the cane beside her seat made it obvious. But that bullet wound was on her right shoulder. Her legs were clearly capable of walking on their own. Oh, a wound of the mind. A psychosomatic limp. The stance says military. The hair was cut short so to not get in the way. A slight tremor in that hand too. _Oh_ , an army doctor.  “to wait a minute. Let me just, let me uh…” Sheryl fumbled with her clipboard and looked at the name beside number 1895. “Dr. Jennifer Watson.”

“Jen, if you will please.”

“Jen. I’m sorry but I have to take my break. If you’d be willing to wait a couple minutes-” Sheryl stepped closer instantly, putting on her best manners. The sound of her heels clacking on the marble floor seemed to distract the blonde as she looked at Sheryl’s legs.

“It’ll only take a second, right? I just have to grab the key and go through the red or blue door. It only takes a second.” Jen Watson subconsciously flexed her hands by her side. Sheryl took note of it.

“If I make an exception for you, then I have to make an exception for everyone. What makes you so special, Dr. Watson?” Sheryl stood before her now. Dr. Watson stood as well. Their height difference was almost comical. It made her stomach tighten to see those dark blue eyes looking up at her with a hint of what was it? Anger? Annoyance?

“I didn’t say I was special. But you’re being a bit of a cock right now, don’t you think?” Jen Watson had become Captain Watson in a manner of seconds. “I mean, it only takes a minute.” Sheryl could see her holding down that hidden temper _._   _How interesting._

“Second. You said second.” Sheryl challenged her while secretly enjoying the standoff.

“And you said minutes after having said an hour. I think we’re both guilty here.” Jen Watson retorted with a slight grin itching at the corner of her lips.

There was something behind that soft gaze and quiet stubbornness that stirred Sheryl’s blood. There was a whole other kind of danger, a heat blazing through those inviting lips. Those eyes have locked away many secrets within that mind. They had probably seen countless deaths, too many for a lifetime. It was almost regrettable having to send this one through the door. Sheryl bit her own lips. She smiled, a real one this time, and without saying a word, looked at her clipboard.

“Number 1895, you go through the Red…door.”

No. This couldn’t be right. There was no way Jennifer Watson was being sent through the Red door. As far as Sheryl had deduced, Red door did not lead to a great place. All the vilest souls went through the that door. They were the ones that truly sinned, so why? Why was this obviously good soul being sent through the Red door?

“There we have it.” Jen said with a deep intake of breath. She relaxed her arms at her side and held out her palm for the key.

“There’s been a mistake.” Sheryl whispered, suddenly getting close to Jen. “You’re not meant to go through the Red door.”

“Sorry?” Jen furrowed her eyebrows. She tilted her head back instinctively.

“I checked. I make a triple check, a sextuplet check, every start of the shift on the thousands of names and I remember - I’m good at that by the way - every single detail of every single letter on this clipboard. You were assigned the Blue door.”

“Do you think that...someone might've messed with the list then?” Jen suddenly seemed concerned yet not really afraid which was a bit sexy to Sheryl. She wasn’t sure why but it was. “Who’d do that? And here of all places?”

“Not who, _what_!” Sheryl inquired with a whisper.

“What?”

“Exactly!”

“No I mean, what do you mean _what_?”

“ _What_ is a _what_.”

“No I mean what- please just tell me already!” Jen snapped and Sheryl quickly put a finger to those soft lips. “Sorry.” Her muffled words escaped from her mouth. Her cheeks became a bit flushed and Sheryl moved her hand away. _Too close._  

“Don’t worry, Dr. Watson. I have this under control. There’s good news and bad news. Good news: I’m still technically on my break and we still have 50 minutes to solve this case before your fate is sealed.” Sheryl exclaimed almost too excitedly.

Jen cocked her head and seemed genuinely confused. “What’s the bad news?” 

“You’re stuck with me for that entire duration of time. Follow me, Dr. Watson.” Sheryl ordered, and without a second thought, Jen followed after her with the cane in hand. She was secretly admiring the view as Sheryl strutted ahead.

 

\---

 

“I’m surprised someone...or something" Jen corrects herself. "Could sabotage the list like that. I mean, isn’t the system flawed if something could go and just change our destination so easily?” Jen asked. The two were currently making their way to god knows where. Sheryl seemed to know as she was deep in thought but her pace only quickened with each question. “Want to slow down there, uh..”

“The name’s Sheryl Holmes. _This_ world’s only consulting detective and not to mention _that_ world’s only ex-consulting detective as well.”

“What kind of parents name their daughter Sheryl?”

“Funny how that’s coming from you, Dr. Jennifer _Hamish_ Watson.”

“Alright. Point taken. And thanks for not announcing that out there. I sort of…hate that name.”

“I don’t blame you.” Sheryl replied and the two shared a smile once again. “Here we are.” Sheryl  stopped before a blank wall and a large black door appeared before them out of thin air. Had that always been there? “221B Baker Street. It’s modeled after my flat from my previous life. There are some perks to being a great help around here. I get my old stuff back.”

“Sheryl honey!” An elderly man brought his arms out to hug the woman when the door opened. Jen watched as Sheryl kissed him on both his cheeks and he almost gasped at Jen when he saw her. “Who’s this pretty bird you’ve found?”

“Dr. Jennifer Watson. She’s just visiting.” Sheryl said, smiling at the old man. “And this is Mr. Hudson. My landlord.”

“Hello, dear. Please come in. I was just putting the kettle on.” Mr. Hudson guided the two women inside, closing the door to 221B behind him. “I apologize for my get up." Mr. Hudson gestured to his apron. "I’m trying to do some spring cleaning around here. Sheryl keeps everything a mess.”

“I should also tell you that Mr. Hudson’s a bit senile.” Sheryl whispered to Jen.

“Don’t think I didn’t hear that, young lady. I’m old but I’m not that old!” Mr. Hudson fixed his purple sweater vest and black bowtie. He had his grey hair in short curls that matched his grey scruff. He smelt like home, whatever was left of it anyway. “I’ll get you two a cuppa tea but don’t think I’ll always do it. You’re grown women, you can do it yourself.”

“Yes, what will I ever do without you, Mr. Hudson?”

“Oh, I can’t even fathom the idea.” Mr. Hudson replied with a bat of his hands at the girls and the two giggled. “Now, we don’t have an upstairs but we have two rooms on the floor level and Sheryl’s room is down the hall.”

“Alright.” Jen said, not understanding why Mr. Hudson told her that.

 “Back in the other world, this building had a flat upstairs where I used to live. I’m currently a bit short on funds but I’m working towards it.” Sheryl explained.

By the time the two were seated on a long sofa facing an old T.V set, Mr. Hudson had already brought in their tea and snacks.

“There is only one thing that can slip through under my watch and change the words on the clipboard. And that’s only on rare occasions because this is the second time it’s happened in over so many years.” Sheryl started to speak all of a sudden, catching Jen off guard as she burnt her lips in the hot tea. Sheryl paid no mind to it. Instead she seemed to be in a trance. A tense focus emanated off her expression as she kept her palms clasped under her chin. “We call it the What.”

“You weren’t kidding around when you said that?” Jen put her tea down.

“I don’t _kid around_ , Jen. This is serious. Your very soul is in danger.”

“Listen to Sheryl, dear. She knows a lot about the What. They’re nasty little creatures.” Mr. Hudson interrupted, taking a seat on a single sofa adjacent to theirs. “Darn things came to our door and tried to steal my jumpers!”

“Not to mention it tried to eat him too.” Sheryl added in casually.

“Well it’s not like I have to take care of my body.” Mr. Hudson laughed.

“Yes, the dead body is the least of our worries. That’s easy to recover.” Sheryl said.

 _The dead body was the least of their worries._ Jen repeated in her mind. She wasn’t sure what she was getting herself into anymore. These two were clearly out of their minds.

“It’s the soul that matters. Once you lose the soul, it’s all over.” Mr. Hudson said.

“Over?” Jen asked.

“It doesn’t even go through the door. It just… becomes nothing.” Mr. Hudson looked at his tea quietly.

Jen looked at Sheryl who seemed deep in thought at that point. Had she been affected by those words just now? Why did she look so glum?

“So how do we fix this?” Jen continued with her questions. It was her first time hearing about any of these strange stories. As far as she remembered, monsters were the real people in our daily lives, not beasts with magical powers.

“We hunt it down and destroy it. The Whats are very good hiders. So we’ll need some help from DI Lestrade, the more of us the better.” Sheryl stood up in a rush, taking off her blazer as she made her way to the closet. Jen watched from her seat, budging about like a lost puppy with her arm resting on one side and the other still holding her cane. “We have 35 minutes. Let’s get going.” Sheryl stepped out into Jen’s view and Jen almost lost her train of thought when she saw her.

The long wool coat falling down to her shins hugged her body just right, and not to mention her collars were popped up.

 _Why? Did she want to look cool?_ Jen held back a smirk, trying to not stare as Sheryl changed into her black boots which she zipped up her long, lean, legs. Jen swallowed.

“Are you going to just sit there and admire the view or change into something comfortable?” Sheryl asked the gaping mouthed Army Doctor. There was a disgruntling sound as the blonde got up from her seat. She had been caught and too embarrassed to admit it.

“Don’t worry dear, I already called Detective Inspector Lestrade soon as I put the kettle on. She should be here any minute.” Mr. Hudson said and just in that moment the doorbell rang. “That’s her. I’ll get it.”

The two women were finally alone and silence had washed over the small flat. They stood before each other, Sheryl was near the door while Jen stood by her seat. Jen pretended to look around a bit as Sheryl fumbled with her gloves.

“Do you think you’ll be able to help me?” Jen finally spoke. She had her cane in hand, and head slightly tilted with her gaze upon Sheryl’s confident expression.

“I don’t think, I know.” Sheryl threw a black leather jacket at Jen. “Try this on. A client gave it to me but I don’t wear these.”

Jen put it on and felt silly as it drooped over her body like a tent.

“You tall girls.” Jen muttered.

“Am I interrupting something?” A woman a bit older than Jen’s age appeared at the door. She had a streak of silver in her long black hair that was tied back into a pony tail. She had an outwardly presence, almost teasing towards Sheryl. “You went and got yourself a girlfriend behind my back?”

“This is Dr. Jennifer Watson. And Jen, this is DI Lestrade, the one who will help us hunt down the Whats.” Sheryl introduced the two to each other, completely ignoring the previous comment.

“Nice to meet you.” Jen and Lestrade shook hands. Lestrade gave Jen a warm smile that made her feel at ease with the new stranger. “Thank you for helping on such short notice. Also, I’m _not_  her girlfriend.”

“Don’t thank her, Jen, she owes me one - owes me a couple actually.” Sheryl said in a cocky tone, dismissing the look on Lestrade’s face. “Whenever the police are out of their depth – which is always – they consult me.”

“But I thought the police didn’t consult amateurs.” Jen questioned, she was genuinely curious.

A loud snicker escaped from Lestrade and with the biggest grin on her face, she came over and put her arm around Jen.

“I like this one. She’s a keeper.” Lestrade egged on as Sheryl pursed her lips inward and closed her eyes in annoyance.

“We’re wasting time. Let’s go.” Sheryl stormed out the flat and left them in the dust.

“Did I say something wrong?” Jen asked.

“Jenny, love, you might not see it yet but Sheryl is a bit of a trip. Just - you’ll understand when you see it.” Lestrade squeezed her shoulder and left with a smirk. Jen stood there for a bit, not only because she was sure Sheryl was different from all the rest but also because she still felt the imprint of those large breasts against her shoulder. That woman had quite the rack.

 

\-----

 

When they’d stepped out of the flat, Jen paused a bit and looked around in confusion. The landscape had completely changed. The bleak white hallway was now the street of London. She felt the nostalgia kick in and the first thing she missed was her brother, Harry.

“I’ve got my team searching the area. We need to split. I’ll head over there with a group. Also-” Lestrade handed Jen and Sheryl both titanium pistols that felt as light as air. “these little bad boys will take down the What’s in one shot. Just don’t miss.”

“I never do.” Jen replied.

“Keeper.” Lestrade said, winking at Sheryl before running off with three other men in black uniforms.

“Hungry?” Sheryl asked Jen once they were alone.

“A bit.”

“Good.”

The little restaurant was called Angela’s, named after the owner herself. She was a big woman with a loud friendly voice and she embraced Sheryl soon as they stepped in. Then she went for Jen which caught her by surprise, not to mention she felt the air knocked out of her lungs from that death grip.

“Ms. Sheryl Holmes! I’m so happy you came to visit again. Please, have a seat. And your date as well!” Angela took out her small notepad to take orders.

“I’m not her date.” Jen interrupted, looking at Sheryl for support but she was occupied with studying the street.

“Oh don’t be shy. ” Angela urged on, as she patted Sheryl’s shoulder. “Ms. Holmes here saved me from the Hounds. I’d been framed by the What’s during my wait. It had changed into me and eaten someone’s soul but Ms. Holmes proved I couldn’t have done it since I was busy robbing another soul at the time. I couldn’t be two places at once. I had a witness!”

“Witness being the very soul you were robbing.” Sheryl corrected.

“A witness nonetheless! I got off free.” Angela laughed.

“Mmm, no you didn’t. That’s why you’re doing time here at this diner.” Sheryl said.

“But I’d rather have this than the Hounds, Ms. Holmes. You saved me and I can never forget that! Now, I’ll get you our best dish.” Angela left, finally giving the two some peace and quiet.

“So, are there others like you around here? Like Angela?” Jen took a sip of her water.

“A few. Everybody chips in, does their work. I’m always the one handling everything though. Such feeble minds these souls have, can’t they just think?”

“But what about friends? Isn’t Mr. Hudson a friend? Or DI Lestrade?” Jen asked.

“I have arch nemeses, does that count?” Sheryl was still facing the window; watching, waiting for something.

The food arrived in time and Angela had to go take other orders before she could start another conversation again.

“Real life people have friends. People they like. People they don’t like. Boyfriends. Girlfriends.”

“Really? How boring.” Sheryl said casually as if to dismiss the entire conversation.

There was a small pause. Jen stabbed her fork into a piece of cherry tomato and ate it. She wasn’t done just yet.

“Must get lonely around here unless you have a boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend? No, not really my area.” Sheryl responded, her eyebrows furrowed at the question. She looked at Jen who continued to take slices of chicken into her mouth.

“Oh, right then.” Jen stopped chewing, registered something in her head. “Do you have a girlfriend? Which is fine, by the way— “

“I know it’s fine.”

“So you’ve got a girlfriend.” Jen swallowed, she went for her glass of water.

“No.” Sheryl answered. Jen stopped midway and looked at Sheryl.

“Right, okay. You're unattached, just like me. Fine. Good.” Jen smiled. She hadn’t taken a sip, and instead licked her lips subconsciously.

Time was running out. Jen wanted to hit herself for asking such a stupid question. Weren’t they supposed to be hunting the What? Instead, she’s curious about this gorgeous woman’s dating life. Jen could feel her cheeks turning hot right then and there.

“Don’t look now but it’s watching us.” Sheryl said quietly. Her voice had dipped to a low velvety tone that sent shivers down Jen’s spine. “We’ll finish this conversation another time.” Sheryl winked at her and Jen had to cough because she almost choked on the tomato. “Thanks for the dinner, Angela.”

The two got up quickly and left the restaurant. Jen rushed after Sheryl, reaching for the gun hidden in her jacket. She was ready for anything at this point.

When they stepped out of the door, something horrible had happened. Across the street, DI Lestrade stood with Mr. Hudson as her hostage. She had the titanium gun pointed to his grey head; her eyes were glowing neon red. The What had possessed her.

“What do we do?” Jen asked Sheryl who seemed too calm for comfort. “Mr. Hudson is in danger, we have to do something!”

“Don’t fall for it. It likes to plays tricks.” Sheryl reassured.  

“But that’s Lestrade. She has the gun. The What has them both in danger, can’t you see?” Jen yelled at Sheryl.

“Don’t just see, Jen, observe!” Sheryl snapped, taking her own gun out of her coat pocket. “Remember what Angela said. Remember how Lestrade looked. What’s different about her?”

“That she didn’t have freakishly glowing red eyes?” Jen retorted.

“No. Something else! These What’s aren’t the brightest. They always miss something. A physical trait. The copies are never perfect replications; the human soul is much more complex than that.” Sheryl lectured. Jen focused harder, holding her gun before her and ready to shoot. She aimed at Lestrade’s head.

She was right. DI Lestrade had a streak of silver along her bangs. The one holding Mr. Hudson right now had complete black hair. On second thought… Mr. Hudson seemed peculiarly different too.

“Mr. Hudson is also…”

“Not really Mr. Hudson.” Jen could hear the smirk in Sheryl's voice.

Jen didn’t hesitate another second as she shot the Lestrade copy in the forehead while Sheryl shot the other one in the heart. A shrieking howl escaped from them as they turned to ash on the cement floor.

“And with ten minutes to spare.” Sheryl put her gun back into her coat. “You’re safe now.”

Jen smiled, her chest was heaving from the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been waiting in that hallway but she’d realized how bored and restless she’d been that entire time. Having spent this few minutes with the consulting detective had made her too happy for words.

“I’ve texted Lestrade. We’re heading back now.” Sheryl put her phone away, having been quick as always with her movements.

Jen turned to face her and was about to speak.

“I know…” Sheryl smiled sadly at her before clearing her throat and then proceeded to straighten her collars. “Let’s get you back.”

That’s not what she’d wanted to say though.

\--- 

 

When the two were walking back down the white hall again, things were oddly quiet. An unspoken goodbye was eating at the back of their heads and there wasn’t a single thing they could do about it. Luckily for them, there was a pristinely dressed woman with a black umbrella waiting for them near the entrance. Both her hands were resting on the handle of the umbrella as if it were her staff. She was wearing an outfit much like Sheryl’s but without the long coat and hers were dark grey. When Jen and Sheryl stood face to face with her, the redhead spoke in a daunting manner.

“Once again you’ve recklessly put another soul in danger with your hunting, Sheryl Holmes. Someone could have been eaten.”

Sheryl stepped up to her; she stood a bit taller than the older woman. “I had it under control, Margaret.”

Jen watched as the two intimidating women seemed to have a glare off with one another, well, more so Sheryl than this Margaret character who seemed unfazed by it all. She hadn’t even moved from her previous position with that umbrella still in hand.

“Is that why you’re here? To nag at me?” Sheryl asked, crossing her arms at the woman.

“No, sister mine, I actually have some business to take care of. I wish to speak with Jennifer Watson for a brief moment, if you will allow me to that is.” Margaret finally glanced at Jen and grinned, though it failed to look any bit friendly.

“Wait. Sister? You’re sisters?” Jen blurted out.

“Unfortunately.” Sheryl answered Jen but then faced back to Margaret. “And why do-” Margaret had gone already around her. “Shit.”

“Margaret Holmes. Please forgive me for the late introduction, as you saw, I had my hands full with that one.” Margaret took her hand out and Jen shook her hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Dr. Watson.”

“Same here, Holmes.” Jen replied.

“Please, call me Margaret.” She let go and Jen retreated her hands to her side. “Interesting.”

“Sorry?” Jen asked.

“Plans have changed, Dr. Watson. You won’t be going through the Door.” Margaret announced and instantly Sheryl was at Jen’s side, and like an angry dog, she was about to pounce on her older sister. “Dr. Watson will be staying back to help around the place for a while.”

“And who decided that?” Sheryl snapped. “She didn’t do anything wrong!”

“It was decided the moment she was targeted by the Whats. They only hunt souls that have a special gift. You knew this, Sheryl Holmes. Don’t act surprised.”  Margaret was stern and the two were once again throwing daggers at each other with their eyes. “For now, Dr. Watson will have to share the flat with you.”

Sheryl’s entire demeanor changed in that second.  


“We’ll need an upstairs room.” Sheryl demanded.

“Fine.”

“Also, I want all of my old things back. Give it a touch of domesticity.”

“You mean the tools for your experiments.”

“Precisely.” Sheryl grinned.

Margaret looked at Jen and then back to Sheryl. After a brief moment she sighed. “Very well. It’s been done.”

“Just like that?” Jen exclaimed, utterly dumbfounded by this whole conversation.

“Just like that.” Margaret picked up her umbrella and nodded at Jen. She leaned in a bit as she passed by her. “Please be careful. I will be watching.” Margaret said before disappearing into a door which hadn’t been there when they’d first arrived.

“So.” Sheryl stood by the entrance, quietly studying Jen’s expression. “What do you think?”

“I’ve just been told I’m going to share a flat with someone I’d met barely an hour ago so I’m not sure what to think.” Jen responded.

Sheryl looked at the ground, seeming a bit deflated. Jen smiled.

“But I’m glad I don’t have to leave just yet.”

“You should be!” Sheryl lightened up. “Who knows what’s beyond those doors? Honestly, I think it’s all a hoax. Just one big furnace. _Whoosh_!” Sheryl made sporadic movements with her fingers to portray flames and it was pretty hilarious to Jen. Just then her watch beeped. “Shit. I have to go back to work.”

Jen watched Sheryl turn away and walk but then turn right back around.

“Well. What’s the hold up?” Sheryl asked as her blue eyes seemed to ignite with excitement.

 _I could get used to this._ Jen blushed. To keep her mind focused she looked at Sheryl’s lips instead, which only distracted her further.

“I just realized something.” Jen put her hands in her pockets. “I don’t have my cane.”

“What?”

“My cane is gone.”

“Angela has it.” Sheryl answered.

 All of her inhibitions faded away when Jen looked at Sheryl. With a gentle smile, Sheryl beamed at Jen as if to say ‘I knew you were special’. It made her hot just being this close to the detective and now that smile too? It was unfair.

 “How?”

“You’re Captain Jen Watson of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers. You won't need that cane again.” Sheryl held out her hand, and Jen slowly placed her own in them. She felt small in those long slender fingers that wrapped around her so gently. “Care to join me?”

“Oh god yes.”

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
